And the saints we see are all made of gold.

- Demons, Imagine Dragons

The town, or what remained of it, lay in ruins before him. And embedded in the deathly landscape was the unmistakable portrait of triumph holding hands with despair. The Imperial Crown, once again, had prevailed. The fruits of victory gained by the High King’s warriors in their defense of his honor had been sown viciously into the cold, blood-colored earth. His Majesty’s glory would be celebrated by those who worshiped him, at the crack of dawn, amidst the acrid smoke, upon the dead bodies of the husbands, wives, sons, and daughters of his rival Gyeonggido.

The man whose legendary leadership and renowned battle skills that had brought about this momentous occasion was none other than Seoul’s most prized champion. He stood, with legs braced apart, surveying his handiwork with the nonchalance of a man born into a life of fighting. Not even the sight of the burnt body of a young girl three paces off to his right evoked an ounce of remorse in his soul. He was far from sorry for the havoc and killings that had erupted at their arrival. Everything had been done in the name of the High King. The siege of this town was nothing more than a small stepping stone towards Seoul’s greater goal. It was only the beginning of countless more invasions to come, battles that would be bloodier and more devastating, until the King of Ilsan would finally be forced to choose to either slowly bleed to death or swear fealty to the Imperial Crown. In this historic battle between two formidable rulers, there would no middle ground.

And yet there was something morbidly special about this small overtaking, something vastly significant to one broken life. To the battle-hardened warrior, this one seemingly ordinary siege meant more than all the greatest combats he had fought and won.

This one small victory marked the first day of reckoning for the sins of the past.

Today marked the beginning of his vengeance.

With the wind blowing about him and the colors of dusk painting his raven head, Park Yongguk, trusted friend of His Majesty, most feared warrior of the Asian lands, the greatest soldier Seoul has ever delivered, closed his eyes in a moment of solitude and remembered his reason…

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A/N:  Don't worry about the name, it's part of the story. It's still Yongguk, the adorable .